The camera was behind a desk lamp. You could see part of Grant’s shoulder and the back of his head as he sat down in his office chair. He clearly didn’t notice the tablet. He was facing the window.
“Yeah, I got your message,” Grant said. “Monday’s perfect. He goes back to her Monday morning. I’ll make sure he’s wearing that shirt.”
There was a pause while the other person talked.
“No, no, I’m not washing it,” Grant said. He laughed. “That’s the whole point. Tessa spilled spaghetti all over it tonight. It looks great. Get the shot when he comes out of school. Close up. Make it look bad.”
On the laptop, a small hand appeared at the edge of the frame, holding the T-rex very still.
“And hey,” Grant said. “Carroway’s going to want the stuff about the cleaning job. Did Clay write it up the way I told him?”
Another pause.
